Prompt Challenge
by rebelsaurus29
Summary: Various one-shots using one-word prompts. The goal is to write 100 stories so I will need some love and encouragement :-) Characters and length will vary from story to story.
1. Innocence

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

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Looking over the top of her book, Hermione watches as Ron lounges on her sitting room couch. All gangly arms and legs, Ron is the epitome of ease with his eyes closed and hands folded as they rest upon his chest.

"Is there something you want to say to me Hermione or are you just enjoying the view?" Ron asks cheekily.

Blushing at being caught, Hermione hides behind her book until she can get herself under control. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ronald. I was just thinking about something I read, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Ron replies with a smirk. "I'm sure that's why your face is beet red."

"You can't even see my face. Your eyes are still closed," Hermione says exasperatedly.

"Hermione, I know you. Of course your face is beet red," Ron says knowledgeably. After a pause he asks, "Are you going to tell me what you were really thinking about?"

With a huff Hermione lowers her book, looks over at her boyfriend, and sees him grinning like a cat that caught the canary. "I was thinking about us," she says finally.

"Mmmm," he says contentedly.

"About our future," Hermione continues.

"Mmmm," Ron repeats.

Taking a deep breath Hermione asks, "You love me, right?"

"Of course I do," Ron replies without pause.

"And you find me…" Hermione hesitates for a moment before continuing, "pleasing to the eye, right?"

"Pleasing to the eye?" Ron repeats before bursting into laughter.

Hermione grows stiff in her seat as Ron continues to laugh. She turns her head to hide the tears forming in her eyes, but is unable to hold in her sniffles.

Hearing sniffling, Ron opens his eyes and looks at Hermione. Seeing her turned away from him and shaking slightly, Ron sits up and moves to kneel next to her chair.

"Hermione? Love, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly.

"Nothing's wrong," she replies.

"I know I'm not good with picking up on emotional stuff, but even I can tell that something's wrong," Ron says. Placing his hand on her hair and gently playing with her curls Ron asks again, "What's wrong?"

Hermione moves her hand to wipe the tears streaming down her face. "Why did you laugh at me? Am I so unpleasant and plain looking that me asking you if I'm attractive is a laughable matter? Like you cannot even fathom me being pleasant to look at?" Hermione asks shrilly.

Ron's eyes widen at Hermione's angry tone and sad face. "Hermione, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just, you are so much more than 'pleasing to the eye.' You are gorgeous. Stunning. Sexy as hell."

"No I'm not," Hermione says as she turns away from Ron.

"As your boyfriend I think I would know whether or not you're attractive," Ron states.

"Why haven't we had sex yet if you find me so attractive? Hmm?" she angrily asks.

Ron stares at Hermione, eyes wide and mouth open.

Taking his silence as confirmation of her unattractiveness, Hermione stands up and yells, "Ah-ha. I'm right. You don't find me attractive. You think I'm ugly and that's why you won't sleep with me. I knew it!"

Upon hearing her declaration, Ron shakes his head to clear his thoughts and stands up to face an enraged—and slightly hysterical—Hermione.

"Have you gone mental?!" Ron shouts at her. "You think we're not having sex because I secretly think you're ugly? You've gone off the deep end if you think that's true."

"But—," Hermione starts before Ron interrupts her.

"No. It's your turn to listen, Hermione. I love you. I think you are amazing. I think you are beautiful. You are my life. You are my future. Every time I see you I want to ravish you. But I don't. Do you wanna know why?" he asks his silenced girlfriend.

Hermione nods her head.

"We grew up so fast, fighting Voldemort, looking for horcruxes, seeing so much death. I just—I just wanted us to keep some innocence." Walking towards Hermione, Ron holds onto her hands and caresses them gently. Looking her in the eye Ron continues, "I plan on marrying you one day, Ms. Granger. Why rush something when we have all the time in the world?" Smirking slightly at Hermione's beaming smile, Ron pulls her into a hug and kisses her gently on the head.

"I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley," Hermione whispers softly.

"I love you, Hermione Jean Granger," Ron whispers back.


	2. Lost

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

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"Hermione?"

She hears her name, but it's like she is underwater. Her eyes flit from one object to the next, never really seeing anything. Just moving. Moving. Moving.

Louder, "Hermione?"

She turns her head towards the door and sees Harry. But not Harry. This Harry is broken. This Harry is red-nosed and bleary-eyed. This Harry looks at her in a way she wishes he wouldn't.

"Molly and Arthur are wondering if you are going to come downstairs," this Harry says uncertainly, uncomfortably, un-Harry _ly_.

She snorts to herself.

Harry looks at her strangely. "Hermione? Did you hear me?"

She nods her head intentionally. Then continues nodding. Just moving. Always moving.

"What do I do?" she asks.

"What do you want to do?" Harry questions back.

"Do I continue on like my life hasn't been completely turned on its head? Or do I curl up into a ball and never move _because_ my life has been completely turned on its head?"

Realizing that she is having a different conversation, Harry tries to redirect her. "Hermione, Arthur and Molly would like to see you. They need—," Harry breaks off to clear his throat of the tears that want to make a reappearance.

She stares at him, eyes wide.

"I've been so selfish. They lost a son and brother. Again. And all I've been doing is worrying about how I feel and what I'm going to do. How selfish is that?"

"Hermione, you're not being selfish. They understand. They just want to make sure you're—"

"Rosie asked me if it was okay to laugh," she interrupts. "I didn't know what to say. I don't think I can ever laugh again, but I can't say that to my child."

Stunned she continues, "I didn't know the answer. I always know the answer. How could I not know the answer?"

Harry approaches her, looking at her that way. Again. Why does he keep doing that?

Panic enters her eyes and her hands start to shake. "What's going to happen if I don't know the answers to things? There won't be anyone else who will know the answers."

She has to move. She has to keep moving.

"And who's going to threaten Rosie's first boyfriend? He wanted to do that so much and now he'll never get the chance."

She tries to catch her breath. Air is going in, but nothing is coming out. Need more air. More air.

"She's not going to have all those things she should have with her father."

She looks at Harry and her entire demeanor changes.

Growling she says, "And I'm so mad. So mad at him for leaving me. How _dare_ he leave me like this."

Her snarl becomes trembling chin and lips. "He promised me that he would always be here. And now he's not."

She looks around at everything, stopping on Harry. "I'm lost. I'm lost."

She falls into his arms. Sobs overwhelm her. Pain overwhelms her.

She keeps repeating, "I'm lost."


	3. Negative

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

"I have a good feeling this time," she says as she lies down on their bed.

"You always say that, love," he replies with a sigh.

"But I really mean it this time. It feels different. _I_ feel different."

"Astoria, are you sure you don't want to wait a few more days? Or make an appointment with the Healer?" Draco asks his wife delicately.

"Draco, we know the spell. We've seen the Healers perform it enough times. I can't—," she pauses to gather herself before continuing, "I can't go back there with all the looks and the whispers. Please."

Looking at his wife's pleading face, Draco slowly nods his head. Taking his wand in hand, Draco weaves it over her abdomen in a complicated design as he mutters the incantation. Upon its completion, Draco holds onto Astoria's hand and waits for her stomach to glow.

They wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Turning to his wife Draco starts, "Astoria—," but stops upon seeing her face. His wife lies there silently with tears streaming down her face. She is heartbroken, once again. Gulping down his own pain, Draco lies next to his devastated wife. Squeezing her hand he turns to face her. "Tori, it's going to be okay," he whispers to her.

She blinks her eyes rapidly and finally focuses them on her husband's face. "What if it's not?" she whispers back. "What if we can't? What if we'll never—," she begins before gasping for breath.

Draco pulls his wife into his arms and holds her tightly. "We can," he says fiercely. "We will," he continues.

And the couple lies there, on their bed, clinging to one another.


	4. Haircut

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

The whispers follow her down the hall, but she ignores them. Head high, shoulders straight. The perfect pureblood daughter. She walks out to the courtyard and people stop to stare. She hears them asking each other what she did to herself, if she had a mental breakdown. The chatter doesn't stop until a messy haired boy walks up to her. Reaching out, he gently touches her short locks and says, "Short hair looks good on you, Parkinson." Giving her a half-smile, the messy haired boy—young man—turns and walks away. Allowing herself a small smile she turns to watch the messy haired boy— _young man_ she corrects herself—walk away. This year got a whole lot more interesting.


	5. Sisters

Head held high and back straight, Narcissa Malfoy walks silently through the Great Hall. Broken pieces of stone, glass, and wood still cover the floor as she makes her way to the end of the hall where a group of people stand waiting for their turn. Ignoring the glares and increased whispers Narcissa joins the line, fighting the urge to look at the broken people around her. Slowly, the crowd lessens until she is the only one waiting at the curtained opening. Gazing at the destruction around her, Narcissa recalls the memories of the battle that ended only mere hours ago. Lost in her thoughts, Narcissa doesn't notice as someone approaches her.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" she hears a vaguely familiar voice call her name. "How—how can I help you?"

Looking up, Narcissa realizes that it is Hermione Granger. Narcissa stares at Hermione in shock for a moment before replying, "I'm here for my sister's body."

Blinking rapidly before composing herself Hermione says, "Of course. I'll bring you over to her."

Hermione turns to lead Narcissa to the casualties when Narcissa stops her. "Ms. Granger," Narcissa starts hesitantly, "is there someone else that can take me?"

Noticing Hermione's eyes flash in anger Narcissa hurriedly continues, "I apologize. That sounded rude. I assure you that I did not intend for it to be." Narcissa lowers her eyes slightly to Hermione's uncovered and scarred arm before returning to meet the young girl's eyes. "I don't want you to have to be near Bellatrix again after what occurred at my home."

Eyes widening slightly Hermione quickly gathers herself and says, "Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Malfoy, but I don't mind. Even those on the wrong side are still loved by someone."

Quirking her mouth slightly, Narcissa nods at Hermione and follows her to the sectioned off area.

"Hermione? Is everything okay?" a voice calls from behind the pair.

Recognizing the voice, though not having heard it in several decades, Narcissa freezes next to Hermione.

Hermione casts a sidelong glance at Narcissa before replying, "Yes, Andromeda. I was bringing your, um, Mrs. Malfoy to your—her sister," Hermione finishes awkwardly.

Eyes hardened, Andromeda looks at Narcissa and says to Hermione, "I'll take care of this. You should rest."

Looking between the two sisters Hermione opens her mouth to say something, but shakes her head and walks away instead.

Waiting until Hermione is out of sight Andromeda turns back to Narcissa, "What are you doing here?" she asks harshly.

"I'm getting Bellatrix so I can bury her," Narcissa responds.

Eyes filling with anger Andromeda says, "How dare you. She shouldn't even be in there with those innocents. She doesn't deserve any of—"

"She's still our sister," Narcissa cuts in.

"Our sister?" Andromeda barks out with a bitter laugh so similar to her deceased sister's. Bearing down on her estranged younger sister, voice steadily becoming lower and more vicious, Andromeda says, "Bellatrix killed my daughter. Bellatrix was party to the death of my husband and my son-in-law. Bellatrix and her kind are the reason my grandson will never meet his parents. Bellatrix wasn't my sister anymore. My sister died years ago. That woman in there is a stranger to me."

Narcissa takes a step back from her eldest sister as if burned. Breathing heavily, Andromeda walks away without another word. Closing her eyes to steady herself, Narcissa makes her way into the back room and finds her sister. Looking down at the shell of her sister, Narcissa sighs and places her hand onto Bellatrix's arm. With a tug at her abdomen, Narcissa and Bellatrix disappear from the room.

* * *

The Black Family graveyard is just as the name implies: dark and unforgiving. Narcissa proceeds to the new grave, escorted by her son. The two stand alone in the light drizzle waiting for those whom they know will not show. Stoically they stand when they hear a whisper of wind behind them. Slowly turning, Narcissa and Draco spot Hermione, Andromeda, and a baby approaching them.

Hope filling her eyes, Narcissa politely greets the trio. "Hello again, Ms. Granger. Sis—Andromeda. And who is this handsome young man?" Narcissa coos. A look of shock slowly takes over her face, though, when the baby's hair turns from black to blonde.

"This is Teddy. My grandson. And a Metamorphmagus," Andromeda replies challengingly.

Looking back at her sister Narcissa nods her head and says, "He looks like a Black if you look closely enough. Let us hope that is the only thing he inherits from our family."

Nodding briskly at the statement, Andromeda turns to Hermione. "Hermione, will you please take Teddy to play closer to the apparition point?"

"Of course, Andromeda," Hermione replies as she reaches for Teddy.

"Draco, be a dear and escort Ms. Granger," Narcissa says to her son.

Looking quickly at his mother Draco replies, "As you wish, Mother," before leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Walking to Hermione, Draco extends his arm out to her out of politeness and leads her to a large willow tree. Narcissa and Andromeda watch them in silence, the sisters barely acknowledging each other, neither wanting to be the first to break the silence.

"I am not mourning the loss of Bellatrix," Narcissa says suddenly, eyes still focused on the figures in the distance. "I know what kind of person she was, what she was capable of…I certainly do not—and will not—miss that person."

Turning to face her only remaining sister, Narcissa tentatively reaches out for Andromeda's hand. "I am mourning for my sister Bella. My sister who would run around outside with me and who taught me it was okay to not be perfect all the time. My sister who cried with me when we were told there were only two Black sisters from now on." Tugging on Andromeda's hand, Narcissa wills her sister to look at her. "I've already mourned one sister. Bella is gone, but you're not. You never truly were. Andromeda…Andy, please. Please let us be a family again," Narcissa begs.

Eyes still on her grandson, Andromeda takes in a deep breath before slowly saying, "We can't pick up from when we were children." Turning to face her baby sister Andromeda squeezes Narcissa's hand and continues, "But I would love for us to get to know each other as adults. Cissa."

With eyes full of joy—and tears—the sisters Black embrace one another.


	6. Memory

**A/N: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling**

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 **You can erase someone from your mind.**

 **Getting them out of your heart is another story.**

 **-Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind**

I felt…off. Like something was missing. I couldn't place my finger on it, but there was definitely something not right. This emptiness was strange, though not the first time I had felt it. If only I could remember how to fix it, get rid of it, _fill_ it.

It followed me. Everywhere. Work didn't feel right. My routine didn't feel right. Everything had a shine to it, like it was an illusion.

There. Right there. That shine like I'm supposed to see something, but I can't.

Day in and day out. It's all the same. I have this urge to change it. A _need_ to change it.

I'm reading when I feel it. Like a pull; a pull that my emptiness is begging for. I look up, searching for the cause. Suddenly I stand, head turning side to side.

There. A man begins walking away and I run after him. People stare, but I ignore them. The pull is strong as I reach him.

He turns. His face is familiar. His eyes pierce through me. My body…it hums with familiarity. Like it has found its home. I open my mouth, questions burning on the tip of my tongue, but I stop. I stare at his face. Tears falling in rivulets down his face, chin trembling, he says my name. A whisper. A wish. A benediction. I blink, and I know him.


End file.
